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2016-09-02
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Four dog days, three dog nights

Summary:

Mei has gone to a climate conference and left her dog in her girlfriend’s trustworthy hands. Unfortunately, Zarya does not trust dogs, and she does not like them one bit – not even adorable, fluffy Pomeranians like Snowball.

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Mei was wonderful. Really, truly, spectacularly great. Zarya knew it from the first time she lay eyes on her, eating an ice cream cone in the middle of winter, and again the first time they spoke, when Mei had slipped on a patch of ice fell onto Zarya, a whole ten seconds later. She had been distracted watching the falling snow and apologised profusely, even though Zarya hadn’t budged an inch at the impact. Rooted in her stance, she had caught Mei’s fall, and up until those flustered apologies they had stared into each other’s eyes for a moment longer than was polite. It hadn’t been love at first sight, but it had been a good place to start.

It also hadn’t been love at first sight because the second sight, and the third sight, and the forth, and all the coming sights only honed their feelings. There was a constant increase of things Zarya found out about Mei to cherish and appreciate. Like how she never shied from speaking her mind, especially if what she had to say was a compliment. Like how she spread positivity wherever she went, but never gave Zarya the impression that it was taxing for her to do so. Like how she would stand up to people who misbehaved, even on the streets, never fearing a confrontation. The more time they spent together, and Zarya learnt all this, the more her first thoughts were confirmed: Mei was wonderful.

She had guts, but also smarts. She was a tiny, squishy and wonderful woman with a brighter mind than anyone Zarya had ever met. She was passionate and with a strong moral code, but she didn’t just talk the talk, like so many who would repeat her ideals, but also believed in working for change herself. Like Zarya, she wasn’t content in just supporting an idea: she would fight for it, and dedicate herself to it fully. But whereas Zarya was focused on her own strength and keeping those she cared for safe and secure, Mei was dedicated to saving the world.

Everything marked her as the perfect woman. She had the sweetest smile, but a true laugh. She worshipped Zarya’s body, but never felt inadequate in comparison. She didn’t steal the blankets at night, and she loved to cook big breakfasts and ate as much as Zarya, teaching her to appreciate vegetarian cuisine. When she chose movies she too preferred comedies, and when Zarya watched sports she took the time to work from her laptop, seated next to her on the sofa.

Really, everything was perfect. Even a few months into their relationship, Zarya was confident that Mei was the one, even though she had never before entertained such a concept. Every time she looked down and saw Mei there by her side she felt warm inside, and when meeting those eyes filled with adoration, she knew her feelings were returned even without words. Truly, every single thing about Mei was perfect – Zarya wouldn’t trade away a single thing.

No, the problem, the only problem, the teeny, tiny, but almost deal-breaking problem, was Snowball. Even the sun has its spots, and Mei-ling Zhou had a dog.

If she had paid attention to anything but the peculiarity of a woman in Moscow eating ice cream in winter, Zarya would have noticed, that very first time, that next to her was a most detestable animal. Though, to be fair, the dog was so puny and fluffy and white, it practically disappeared in the drifts of snow, so her missing it was understandable.

It was when Zarya held the stranger woman in her arms after the almost-fall, and they gazed into each other’s eyes romantically, that the dog made its presence known to her for the first time. It barked, and that was when Mei instead of lingering in her embrace broke out and apologised for falling.

Ever since, Zarya, no fan of dogs to begin with, had had a bone to pick with Snowball indeed.

Mei probably realised it quickly. Being so perceptive, she must have picked up on the way Zarya tensed at the barking that she was no dog lover. Maybe she had also apologised for that. However, the dog stayed, and Zarya realised that if she wanted to get to know this peculiar and lovely woman she had caught, however much it stung, she needed to accept that she was also a dog owner. Though it was difficult to do so.

Whenever they went out for a walk together, Snowball was there. Whenever they were in Mei’s small studio, in any square meter of it, Snowball was there. Even when they were lying in Mei’s bed, exhausted and satisfied, Snowball, for some reason, was right there by their feet. And now, for some inexplicable reason, in the hall of Zarya’s flat, Snowball was there too.

It was inexplicable only for the reason that Zarya disliked dogs, and this one in particular. Of course, there was a very good reason explaining why it was there: Mei had been invited to a climate conference in New Orleans, America, and couldn’t bring her pet. It was completely logical to expect her loving, dutiful and upstanding citizen girlfriend to take care of it over the four day period she would be gone. Zarya had been free, and thus, had no means to refuse. So there Snowball was, far down by her feet, not even reaching her knees – hardly reaching past her ankles – in her hall, in her flat. Wagging its tail at her. And, upon her march into the kitchen, following with its tiny paws over her floor.

She scoffed, and it barked in response. Still wagging its poufy tail.

“You look ridiculous,” she told it, but it lacked its owner’s intelligence, and didn’t take offense.

Zarya had never liked dogs, even as a child. She found them too trusting and co-dependant. They would go back to owners who abused them, like fools, and they would listen to orders without question, incapable of independent thought. Their domesticated and pathetic nature appalled her, and she didn’t understand when people celebrated their brainwashed pets for performing a trick. They weren’t proper animals.

Snowball in particular was an annoyance to her. On top of its species, it was also very weak. It was a tiny Pomeranian which could stand comfortably in her palm, should she ever let it, and had small, fragile legs like twigs. It was also 95% white fluff, more so a cushion than a dog. She wondered what the point of it was.

In the kitchen, it sat on her floor, staring up at her as she started to make a protein shake smoothie. When she started the mixer it became excited, jumping up and down in a futile attempt at seeing whatever machine made that noise. Zarya looked down at it with her arms crossed over her chest, scoffing again at its ridiculousness. She considered picking it up and putting it on the counter so it would stop jumping, but that would involve touching it, and she wanted to keep their contact at a minimum. She had already carried it up the steps to her flat since they were too steep for the tiny animal, and its jumping took forever. And it wouldn’t do it any good to keep coddling it.

She had tried. For Mei’s sake, she had tried to like it. She asked, once, for her girlfriend to elaborate on the positive aspects of the animal. Mei had called it cute, said it was friendly, that it was great company, that it helped her to not feel alone, especially when she had moved to another country, that it was fun to play with it, that it was soft to cuddle with – and a bunch of synonyms for adorable.

Zarya stared down at Snowball again, observing its goofy, happy face, its teeny tiny paws, its abundance of white pouf and its pink tongue sticking out dumbly as it panted. Adorable? She didn’t see it.

Four days, she thought to herself, repeating it like a mantra. She took the finished shake and poured it into a glass, but stopped from drinking when her eyes fell on the refrigerator. There, held up by a dumbbell shaped magnet, was a printed photograph of Mei and her from their fifth date, when they had gone skiing. They were standing on the top of the hill and Zarya had knelt in the snow so that they were on even height for the picture. She was smooching Mei’s cheek, red from cold and love both, the only place not covered by their equipment, and Mei was playfully pushing at her chest with blue gloves.

It was one of Zarya’s favourite pictures in the whole world, deemed too good, too pure for rotting away in the smartphone, so she had had it developed. Looking at it made her feel fuzzy and happy, like no woman had made her feel before with the same frequency. Without realising it, she stroke the other cheek of picture-Mei, and her weird, feathered hat. Then Snowball barked.

Zarya’s clenched her jaw, but didn’t reprimand the dog. Managed to keep it in. Four days, she repeated to herself. Knowing Mei was worth it.

Suddenly Snowball’s miniscule paws were on her leg as it attempted to stand up like a human on two feet. It barked again and looked up expectantly, perhaps wondering why this human was so far away from the ground, compared to its smaller owner. For some reason, it reminded Zarya of how embarrassed Mei had been at their first kiss, when she had tiptoed in an attempt to reach up to Zarya’s lips, yet had come up short. Zarya had laughed, a bit obliviously asking her what she was trying to do with her pouting lips, before catching on. She had swept Mei up in her arms then, lifting her easily – like carrying a couple of grapes – and they had kissed until their mutual embarrassment had faded.

“You’ll never reach me,” she informed the dog, which wagged its tail just at the sound of her voice.

Even so, it followed her out of the kitchen, and jumped up on the sofa next to her when she sat down. Mei’s space. There it lay down, as if exhausted by the mere three meter gap from the living room and the couch, panting all the while. Zarya started to feel concerned for the little thing, detestable as it was. It would never get any bigger, it was five human years old already, but maybe it didn’t have to be so weak. Maybe it could be trained, not to do silly tricks for candy, but to be more durable and with better muscles.

It wasn’t the most exciting prospect. It would mean spending a lot of time focused on the dog. But, as much as she dreaded this, it would keep her occupied for the next couple of Mei-less days. Thus, with a renewed purpose, she looked at the dog and said:

“I will make you strong.”

Snowball’s ears were turned downwards. Good, she thought. Fear was a good place to start. 

 


 

After a second day of intense exercise, Snowball lay sleeping on a cushion on the floor, as Zarya had refused its stay in her bed. It had whined unhappily a second night in a row before realising that its caretaker wouldn’t be guilt tripped or lose in a battle of will. She invited it to go ahead and try.

It was in the middle of the night at a quarter past two, but she was still awake, seemingly not tired in the slightest. She had pulled up the laptop in her bed and sat up waiting in nothing but the Adidas tank top she slept in for Mei to come online and report how the trip and first day of the conference had gone. Her hair was slightly less on point than she would have liked, she needed to dye it again, but she didn’t feel comfortable doing that while taking care of a white dog. Somehow she suspected that Mei wouldn’t be happy to learn that her dog had turned pink in her absence.

Hair aside, Zarya’s muscles were strong as ever, however. She flexed in front of the webcam as she positioned the laptop for the best possible angle. She looked very formidable, and her rippling muscles distracted from the disarray of her hair well enough.

Five minutes of flexing later Mei logged onto Skype and Zarya called her instantly. She willed her internet connection to work properly when it loaded Mei’s camera footage with outmost slowness. Pixel by pixel, it seemed to work.

Aleksandra! Hi!” Mei’s chopped voice sounded before the camera caught up.

“Good evening Mei,” Zarya said. “Everything is going fine?”

Yes, it’s amazing, there are so many people here who I’ve admired for years,” said Mei excitedly, slowly gaining more favours from her microphone and the internet connection to the quality of her lovely voice. She continued speaking of individual idols and what meeting them had been like and Zarya listened, swept up in her pace and staring fondly at the botched, but moving image of her girlfriend in that hotel room far far away.

At the sound of Mei’s voice, Zarya’s heart was stirred – and unfortunately, the same was true of Snowball’s. It awoke far too quickly and barged in on their alone time, uncaring of the no-bed rule as it somehow managed to jump up onto it despite its size.

It was the result of the training, Zarya thought proudly, before she caught herself and became annoyed at the intrusion. Snowball ran onto her lap and barked at the screen.

Hiii Snowball,” Mei cooed, and Snowball retaliated by wagging its poufy tail and barking. “Are you being a good girl? Are you getting along with Aleksandra?”

The question made Zarya pause and think. Had they been getting along? She had taken Snowball out for many walks during just two days, gone to a dog-park and played Frisbee with it (with one she had bought, sized XS), took it into the forest for a steeper trail to walk, and made it go up all five sets of stairs on its own, no matter how long it took. She had bought new dog food for it at a veterinary store which the salesperson had assured her was good for the breed, and she had made sure it was active if it wasn’t tired. Most laboriously of all, she had picked up its poop, and again questioned the reason for having such a pet in the first place. The only time she hadn’t been with it since Mei leaving was when she had been at the gym, and let Snowball stay at a dog day-care.

To its credit, it hadn’t complained about any of it.

“We have been engaged in rigorous physical activity,” she replied for the dog.

Mei paused – or maybe it was the connection acting up – as if this surprised her. Zarya hadn’t outright told her that she disliked Snowball, of course, but given Mei’s reluctant way of asking her to care for it for the time she was gone, it was clear she had understood as much.

Snowball lay down on Zarya’s lap, resting its tiny round head on its paws, and stared, as Zarya did, on the screen’s depiction of Mei.

I’m so glad to hear that, Aleksandra!” she said with the most innocent and stunning smile imaginable. Her voice changed to a coo as she addressed her dog: “And you’re such a good girl, Snowball, yes you are. Looking out for Aleksandra when mommy is gone, good girl.”

Would the tail ever stop wagging? Zarya put a hand on the tiny thing to stop it, and realised it nearly disappeared under her palm, but it seemed only happier for it. Likewise, Mei seemed to squee, though Zarya didn’t understand what for.

Mei only had a short break before she was supposed to meet a few of her fellow scientists for dinner, and so they had to keep their interaction much too brief. Mei made sure to say that she missed them both, and Zarya returned the sentiment with passion. She had never been a romantic, but Mei brought out a side in her which revelled in affectionate abundance.

When they said their goodbyes and Mei told them – Zarya and the dog – to sleep tight, Snowball had already fallen back asleep under the large hand. It stirred when she closed the laptop after a struggle to hang up first, and whined again when she put the laptop and dog on the floor, next to the bed, instead of letting either remain.

It tried once more to jump up, but it was still so weak, and easily pushed down. Zarya grumbled and turned her back to it under the heavy sheets, and she was sleeping soundly by the time the dog pushed its luck and settled by her feet in its tiny rebellion. There it remained, at peace. 

 


 

The third day was a Sunday and Zarya woke late, at eight in the morning. Her body wanted to go for a morning jog, but Snowball needed to be walked after its breakfast, and with its short legs it could hardly keep up with her the way a larger dog could have done. She settled for a short workout in the living room while Snowball gobbled down its new, nutritious and protein rich food, doing chin ups, one-armed push ups, squats and dumbbell exercises to get her body ready.

Snowball wagged its tail incessantly when she attached the leash to its blue, snowflake patterned collar, but as soon as they were outside the door it hesitated by the steep steps, as it had done each time before.

“Go on,” Zarya told it, a bit impatiently. “You have done it before, yes? Don’t be scared now.”

Awkwardly it jumped down one step, and with each one its confidence grew until it seemed less than a dog and more like a fluffy ball, bouncing down the staircase until the bottom floor.

When she had woken, Snowball had still been in her bed, lazily looking up at her in defiance from the edge of the mattress. The initial annoyance she had felt at this was replaced by a sense of pride that this weak creature was finally showing some backbone and dared to go against her. She had said: “Maybe there is hope for you after all,” and resurged with the desire to strengthen it not just in body, but in soul.

Therefore she let it lead the way that morning. It kept looking back at her as it marched, wondering perhaps why she didn’t pull its leash, but she ignored it and refused to answer. Keeping her pace slow she tracked behind it wherever it went, thinking it a positive sign that it was wise enough not to venture into traffic.

It also didn’t pick fights with other dogs, even the ones they met which barked obnoxiously at Snowball. Its sheer indifference to them all impressed Zarya somewhat, especially since no matter its size, it didn’t cower even when they met hounds ten times as large. Slowly, she began to admit to herself that she had underestimated the dog. Or maybe this was the result of her strengthening exercise.

Regardless, she felt proud when Snowball snubbed a mean looking terrier from across the street, merely continuing forward and marking its territory wherever it wanted. At the end of what became a long, two and a half hour walk around town, and then up five flights of stairs, Zarya petted its little head and back when she unclipped the leash.

“Good doggie,” she told it, since positive reinforcement also was an important part of training. It barked happily, and she told it: “You’re welcome.” 

 


 

When Mei had moved to Moscow, after getting a position at the Institute of Geography at the Russian Academy of Sciences, she had known no one. With her friendly disposition she had made friends swiftly, and at nights she took classes in Russian, though she conversed with her colleagues mainly in English. Despite this, she couldn’t help being left out from some conversations around the lab, and out on town. Snowball had been her closest confidant those first few months, before she met Zarya by chance.

When Zarya had moved from Khorula to Moscow to pursue her career in weightlifting, she had not known anyone either. But she had had the language, and the gym, and many ways to make friends and drinking buddies. These things, Mei had been without.

For this reason, Zarya supposed she couldn’t really hate this dog. It had kept Mei company and been there for her before Zarya could be. It had given her a reason to go around Moscow on her own, and it had been the reason she was out in the first place when Zarya was. For those reasons, it was important, even if it seemed like annoying, useless fluff at first sight.

During day four it lay on its back next to Zarya on the sofa while she was watching a game of ice hockey. In the interlude she looked at it, meeting its expectant stare, and gave in to this battle of will. She tickled its belly with two fingers and it licked her wrist.

She would go to the airport and pick Mei up in seven hours, but time was moving particularly slow for the last day. Restlessly Zarya had spent her day at the gym with Snowball at the day-care again, and then she had walked it to the dog park for a game of catch. It had ignored the other dogs completely, which easily outrun it anyhow, despite the training. Instead its focus had been entirely on Zarya, and she had wondered if it missed its owner as much as she did, or more, if it hadn’t realised she would soon return.

“I miss her too,” she had confided in the dog, since Mei had only been able to Skype for half an hour on day three. She couldn’t wait until she saw her short girlfriend again and could sweep her up in her arms and hold her there to make sure she wouldn’t go again so soon. She wanted to sleep next to her again and see Mei wear her shirts like dresses in the morning, and she wanted to eat Mei’s cooking for three meals a day, like their best weekends had allowed. She wanted Mei to come with her to the gym and sweat alongside her, immerging herself in Zarya’s lifestyle just to spend time with her – and she wanted to visit the lab again over lunch, like the first time when she shocked every puny scientist in the building with her presence.

She wanted Mei, and in her absence, she rubbed the dog’s belly. Belatedly, since it must have already faded by the time she had this thought, she realised that Snowball smelled like her. 

 


 

She brought the dog to the airport. Not because she had to – it would take less than three hours to pick Mei up and bring her to the flat – but because when Zarya made to leave it looked at her. It followed her with its tiny tap-tap-tap steps and looked at her expectantly by the door, and just like that, she had clipped the leash back on and allowed it to lead the way down the stairs like a tried routine. She didn’t have a cage for it in her car so she let it sit on the seat next to hers and told it to stay there.

“This isn’t the place for defiance,” she said. “I will drive safely, but you must behave, or you can get hurt, yes?”

When it didn’t reply other than by sticking its tongue out and panting she put on the safety belt, and checked that it wasn’t too tight. It squirmed but didn’t get out when she told it to stay, one more time.

It was a comical sight, its white fluff parted for the black seat belt as Snowball stood facing the driver with a confused, albeit calm demeanour. Zarya laughed, shaking her head, and said: “You look ridiculous.” Before starting the car.

Mei’s plane had yet to land by the time they reached the airport, and so she sat down with Snowball on a bench awaiting her. She had considered bringing a gift to welcome her girlfriend back, but during the day she had been too busy caring for and playing with – training – Snowball to buy something. She imagined that Mei would be too tired to truly take in a present now, as well.

Snowball had lay down between her feet, a bit antsier than it had been in the car due to the many people still at this hour coming and going. When Zarya pulled a hand through her hair she realised that soon she would be able to redye it, though it was a shame that she couldn’t meet Mei at her best. To compensate, she pulled up her sport’s jacket over her arms so that the sleeves only covered up to her elbows. A small gun show had to do.

“Not bad, huh?” she asked the dog. It raised its head at being addressed, but offered no response.

Zarya scoffed.

Time moved even slower at the airport, even though she could see that Mei’s flight indeed was getting closer and closer to its arrival time. It would soon be over, these four days she had spent away from Mei, with this pitiful replacement instead. Had she managed to buff it up? She thought it had seemed stronger, but it could have been wishful thinking. Improvement took time, and four days weren’t nearly enough to make someone powerful.

Maybe they could continue the training regime even when Mei returned, Zarya thought. To see things through. She had never been one to quit halfway without a good reason, and why should she stop training this dog when she would still see it just as often as before?

She didn’t like dogs, though. And the fluff ball between her feet was a pathetic excuse for one. She was just putting up with it because of her amazing girlfriend whose one flaw was this poor choice of a pet, and that was that. Soon, it would all go back to the way it had been before. Snowball was just an annoyance, Zarya thought. Tried to. It leant its head against her shoe.

 


 

The carefully driven car ride home was quiet, with Snowball spoiled through petting in Mei’s lap. They didn’t need to say much, as the hour was late and the trip had been exhausting for Mei, who wished for nothing but a bed and Zarya.

She had been tired indeed when she finally returned, and thankful to have Zarya instantly arriving to support her. Once Mei’s plane landed Zarya had picked up the dog, which had the shape and weight of cotton candy, and held it between her clasped hands as she had hurried towards the arrival area. There she had spotted her short girlfriend, who (more easily) spotted her in turn, and was able to go through the parting crowd without even realising that they had parted for her march alone. Mei was only too stunning in real life as she smiled at her meaningfully and sleepily, as if telling Zarya that she now was where she belonged.

She had soon been lifted into the air and embraced tightly to make up for days without physical contact, after her dog had been returned, pushed onto her chest and lifted alongside her. Snowball had barked and tried to stretch itself towards her face, so when Zarya had placed them back on the ground she had lifted it so it could lap at her cheek and mouth through her laugh.

While assaulted by her dog’s affection, she had stared, dazed, up at her girlfriend. Said:

“Thank you, thank you, you didn’t have to bring her here, but I’m so glad that you did.”

Zarya had picked up her bag and carried it with ease on their way back to the car, while the dog had been nestled happily in Mei’s arms.

“It’s no trouble,” she had said, looking down at the scene. “Snowball seemed to want to see you as much as myself.” For some reason, this admission had awarded her with Mei leaning against her even in public, and smiling much too lovingly for Zarya to handle before driving a car. They had only gotten into the vehicle after she had sobered.

They returned to Zarya’s flat where the bed was expecting their joint bodies, and now the added cushion of a dog by their feet. Its presence there, or Zarya’s lack of complaints at its company, would have surprised Mei if she had been more alert. As it was, sleep found her before realisation did, and the three kept each other warm through the rest of the night, sharing that space.

On the following day, the unofficial fifth, Zarya was woken by someone kissing her face, tickling her as they did, and only when she snorted loudly and pulled back did she understand that it had been Snowball’s lapping which had roused her. She had the urge to grimace and wipe her face of its spit instantly, but it stared straight into her eyes and so instead of pushing it away she scratched it under its jaw.

Mei watched this from the doorway into the kitchen, holding a cup of tea she had brewed, and did nothing to disturb the scene. She had risen just a bit earlier, jetlagged and craving something warm. She watched as Zarya petted her dog and smiled at its wagging tail without the pretences of putting up a show for her sake.

“You are ready for morning exercise, yes?” Zarya asked it, and it barked.

“That sounds like fun,” Mei said, and it seemed then that Zarya only realised her absence from the bed when she had spoken. “Can I join?”

After a moment when realisation had dawned, with Zarya’s eyes trained on only her, Zarya started smirking and beckoned her towards the bed. Once she had put down her cup Mei crawled back to her over the mattress, and shrieked in joy when Zarya wrestled her down to kiss her deeply.

Neither really heard Snowball’s barking then, or noticed that it jumped off the bed when they rolled too close to it, to avoid getting crushed. It left the room to drink from its bowl in the kitchen, clueless to what its mommies were up to. It seemed to make them happy, though, and Snowball was nothing if not considerate, so it let them be for a little while. Or it was just very thirsty, and Zarya’s face hadn’t been very quenching.

This sort of happy routine would continue, and Zarya would understand that there were perks to her having Snowball around when Mei was gone, just as it was there to keep Mei company when Zarya was not. Having to live with a dog wouldn’t be enough of a deterrent to moving in together, especially as Snowball became less appalling to her, bark by bark. She would continue to train it, and Mei would allow the new dog food since it was ecological (by mere chance), and it would get a bit stronger, or so she would like to think. And one day, much later, when she wasn’t currently occupied with enveloping Mei in her body and making up for days of pining, Zarya would admit to finding Snowball a teeny tiny bit wonderful too.